


'cause the truth is, i'm about to lose it

by zeta_leonis



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Depression, I am tired and this was a spur of the moment thing idk, I won't update this regularly just so you know, Knotting, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Not Canon Compliant, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Smut, Teenage Pregnancy, Underage Sex, set after s2
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-20
Updated: 2016-12-07
Packaged: 2018-09-01 04:35:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8608183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zeta_leonis/pseuds/zeta_leonis
Summary: Don't think I can do this if I'm not with you....Suga goes into heat after the big match, and in a hormonal frenzy, Asahi gives him relief, and something else as well...Or: Suga and Asahi both have to deal with the disasterous consequences of their actions.





	1. Chapter 1

In retrospect, it’s not as stupid and foolish as Suga deemed it to be. It’s irresponsible, but they were needy teenagers with newly-gained awareness of their hormones, and it all turned out in the end. 

 

♘

 

The match is over, and they’ve won. He stares down at Tooru’s face of disbelief and grief as the ball touches down, and they both know it’s over for them at that point. Suga will go on to face Shiratorizawa at nationals, and Tooru will graduate. 

He’s filled with euphoria and a deep feeling of satisfaction because they finally beat their biggest woe, their worst fear, and it feels like there’s nothing that can stop them. 

It’s not even that anymore, it goes beyond the student becoming the teacher - it’s the fact that an omega beat an alpha - albeit not on his own - but that has enough merit for him. Suga hates being an omega at times. It’s awful, the way alphas look at him sometimes, like he’s a piece of meat. The societal disadvantages, how some people believe his sole purpose is breeding, being bred. He hates everyone that belittles him, that think he’s weak and need him to prove himself constantly. 

Now, he’s proven himself. 

Suga lets out a cry of happiness, and goes to celebrate with his team, who cheer along as they smile brightly. This isn’t the end for them. 

The omega turns for a minute, away from Hinata and his team, and looks at Seijoh, and for a minute his heart swells in pity. It’s not condescending, but sad, and he gets the unnatural urge to want to cheer them up. Hajime is crying, and it makes Suga feel bad, because he was one of the only people he actually liked. 

“Come on guys, let’s hit the showers and go home.” 

Suga nods, and follows his team, gladly tearing his eyes away from the heart wrenching sight before him. 

 

♘

 

As soon as he steps into the shower, his head feels heavy, like it’s filled with lead. All the thoughts and emotions from the day didn’t let him think or feel clearly, didn’t let him sense the sudden changes going on in his body, but as soon as the warm water hits him and he allows his mind and body to relax, he senses it. It’s slow at first, and he leans against the cool tiles, breathes deeply. Then he feels it - like a crackling in his veins, starting slow and spreading fast, throughout his body, making his extremities feel like jelly. His legs give in, but nobody hears it over the running water. His body is going crazy, hormones and pheromones lashing out like whips of scent and slick, gushing out of him like a fountain. He’s glad for the water, because it hides the scent. 

His heat. 

It’s not his first heat, but he’s already lost all grip on reality and all hopes of ever making it out of this alive. He bites back a groan of pain and frustration. He can’t leave, not with his scent all over the place - it’s not that he doesn’t trust Asahi, Kageyama, Tanaka or Kiyoko - but he’s scared shitless, still uncomprehending of the chemical changes going on in his body. 

He tries thinking, but his brain is a muddled mess, clarity escaping from his reach as soon as it brushes his fingers. He wants to cry, but that would make the guys come rushing in, and he’s so afraid, yet so needing, the idea of any of them bursting in to take care both terrifying and incredibly appealing. 

After a while, he hears all the showers turn off, and he starts getting even more worried, the sound of the water on him sounding more like the roar of a waterfall than the soft patter of a shower, every drop of water feeling like a drop of heavy lead. 

He sees very little through the semi-transparent shower door, but he can see Hinata’s fiery red hair, and he hears his concerned voice. “Suga-san, are you alright?”

Suga has to fake it, so he strains his voice and gives him what he hopes is a convincing reply. “Yeah, just give me a minute!”

Hinata makes a muffled sound but he leaves, along with the rest of the team, and eventually, the bathroom falls silent. 

Suga can’t think properly, his skin feeling itchy and prickly and hot, like he’s on fire, but he tries to break through the fogginess in his brain but it’s too much, it’s always too much. 

He tries standing, but he can’t, too overcome by the instincts in his body, but he’s too afraid to do anything, so he cowers in one corner. He only presented last year, and his heats were only spent jerking off, far too afraid to hurt himself by pushing his own fingers in himself, no matter how much his body screamed to be filled. But he’s not scared of that now - he’s afraid of being caught or seen, afraid a random alpha will walk in and smell him, afraid of being alone, unsure of how to get home. 

The door creaks open and Suga feels himself pale as all the blood drains from his face, and he curls in further, breath still as he tries repressing frustrated groans that gurgle up from his throat as more and more slick spills out of him. 

“Suga?” the familiar voice calls, and Suga’s eyes widen and he shakes his head ever so slightly. 

_ Asahi, no -  _

He can see the Alpha’s frame through the door, and he swallows hard. 

“Suga, are you okay?” The concern in Asahi’s voice is evident, as caring as always. But Suga can’t deal with it. He doesn’t reply. 

“Suga?” Asahi asks again, and the omega wants to cry out,  _ No, leave, go away and leave me alone! _

“I’m coming in now, okay?” 

_ Nonononono - _

When Asahi steps in, Suga goes brain dead completely as the alpha’s scent hits his his nostrils, and it’s like a car crash against his senses. 

Asahi’s face is one of utter surprise, the taller boy evidently not expecting this - his best friend in heat cowered against one corner of the shower as he reeks of sex and pheromones that only say one thing:  _ KnotBreedMateTakeTakeTAKE - _

His jaw tightens, and he leans down beside Suga, ignoring the water falling on him and wetting his clothes. 

“Suga, are you okay?” He asks, trying not to get too close, but then Suga’s hand shoots up out of the blue and grabs at his shirt, pulling him closer and making him kneel on the shower floor. 

“Alpha…” Suga whispers breathily. It’s raw with need, and Asahi pulls away with wide eyes, shaking his head. 

“Come,” he says in his deep, soothing voice . “let’s get you your suppressants, and then…”

But Suga isn’t in his right mind, not with this alpha and his scent all over the place, and the omega’s mind reels as he pulls Asahi back down and buries his nose in his scent glands, finding it comforting, like a warm blanket - but it’s not enough. 

“Alpha, please…” Suga whimpers, and Asahi can feel himself harden in his uniform. He tries exerting what little self control he has left. 

“No, Suga, you’re not -” Asahi tries again, but is cut off by the feeling of Suga humping his leg. 

“Help me, Alpha…” the omega whimpers, and Asahi is torn, his mind telling him to help his friend properly, but his body telling him to shove him against the wall and fuck him raw, pump him full of come, knot him over and over again. 

Suga isn’t in his right mind, he wouldn’t even dare think about this if he were, but his brain seems to have left the building, leaving only his primal instincts to choose what he does and says, and right now, his senses are screaming at him:  _ AlphaKnotBreedMateAlpha- _

“Suga…” Asahi growls low in his throat as the very last bits of sanity leave him as well. He buries his nose in the omega’s scent glands, and that’s when he snaps and goes full alpha, his own instincts taking over. 

“Alpha please, I need -” Suga whimpers, feeling like Asahi’s hands on his back pulling them closer are some sort of relief he needs to quench the fire in his body. But it’s still not enough. 

“What do you need?” Asahi says, moving his hands down to Suga’s ass and squeezing, hearing the omega moan loudly. He pulls his friend into his lap and stands as the omega writhes against him, whimpering words of need and want. 

“You - your knot - I -” Suga’s cut off as he slides from Asahi’s grip and put on the floor on his feet as Asahi leans over him, hand reaching to undo his belt buckle. 

Asahi trails his hand down to Suga’s asscheeks, kneading them, and he circles a finger around Suga’s hole, tracing the rim. Something in the back of his mind is still telling him to stop, to exert some self-control, but he can’t, not with the omega so pliant and willing under his hands. He pushes the first finger in. 

The omega moans loudly and feels his arms weaken, feeling like a thirsty man in a desert who’s been given three drops of water, not enough to satisfy him, but enough to starve off the rest of his thirst. He pushes himself back, trying to rock his hips on the finger currently inside him, and Asahi’s other hand moves to his hip and stills his movements. 

“Easy…” he murmurs in his ear, his breath tickling Suga’s skin. “Be patient. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Suga does feel a dull sting, since it’s the first time anyone/thing has ever been inside him, but his heat clouds his mind and numbs his senses. 

One finger soon turns into two, and low moans become high pitched whines as Asahi stretches Suga, fucking him with his fingers. Slick drips off Asahi’s fingers every time he pulls them out slightly, and it turns him on even further, his cock getting painfully harder in his boxers. 

“Now, Alpha, please, I’m begging you,” Suga begs, slamming his fist against the wall as Asahi’s fingers hit his prostate, and he comes unexpectedly, too on edge to do anything to restrain himself. Self-restraint is something foreign to him at the moment. 

Asahi pulls his fingers out, then quickly turns the omega over, pulling him up and hoisting him into the air, wrapping his legs around his hips, and grabbing his thighs with his hands. 

Suga gasps, but Asahi takes the opportunity to seal their lips together for the first time since they’ve started, shoving his tongue into Suga’s mouth and exploring every crevice of his mouth with his tongue. Neither of them are being themselves, Suga the independent and strong omega reduced to a begging mess, and Asahi the shy and timid Alpha turned into a rough, strong mound of instincts and hormones, the same ones that fuel this kiss, the one’s that make Suga unbuckle Asahi’s belt and then wrap his legs around Asahi once more, wanton moans slipping out of his mouth, getting swallowed by Asahi’s. 

When Asahi presses the head of his cock against Suga’s entrance, the boy gasps and tears away, letting his head rock back against the tiles as Asahi presses in slowly, stretching him, filling him. Suga finally feels at ease, like a man lost at sea that’s finally seen the shore, a thirsty man in a desert reaching an oasis, getting to shelter after a day in the heavy rain. He rakes his nails down Asahi’s back, leans forward and touches their foreheads together. 

“Are you alright?” Asahi asks, the caring side of him coming out. 

“Yeah,” Suga replies, looking into his eyes through hooded eyelids. “Move.”

Asahi nods, then pulls out slightly before pushing back in, trying not to hurt Suga, hiding the urgency in his thrusts, but Suga senses it and nods, clenches around him, urges him on. 

“I won’t break,” he tells Asahi, letting out a soft moan as the alpha rocks his hips. “I want this. Fuck me, Azumane.” 

Asahi growls and momentarily moves one hand up to Suga’s hair, threading his fingers there and pulling his neck up to bury his head there as he begins thrusting in earnest, every rock of his hips eliciting a loud moan from Suga. They could be caught - someone could walk in at any moment, a cleaning lady, a kid - but that’s the thrill of it, what turns them on even more. 

Asahi mouths at Suga’s scent glands, his head thick of the scent. Suga smells like the scent before rain, the crisp smell of winter rain, something cold yet welcoming, like a snowy day. Asahi though - Asahi smells of a warm summer day, of sweat and the muddled feeling of warmth, something blurry that reminds you of a happy bliss. 

Asahi finds Suga’s prostate and the omega screams, his toes curling and his back arching off the tiled wall. They’re both wet from the shower that’s still running, and that makes it even hotter somehow, the feeling of Asahi’s drenched clothes sticking to his skin. Suga would make him take them off, but there’s no time, not when he’s this close -

“Asahi!” he screams, the sweet sound ricocheting of the walls, making the alpha dizzy. 

“So good,” Asahi mumbles into his shoulder. “So tight for me, taking me so well. You’re beautiful, gorgeous, I’m so lucky - God, you feel so good.”

Suga’s cock pulses at this, and he reaches down with one hand to touch himself, Asahi’s hands still on his thighs. “Please I - I need -”

“What do you need, omega?” Asahi says in his deep, ‘alpha’ voice, the one that turns Suga’s heart to mush.  _ “Tell me.” _

“I need you to fuck me harder - I want - want your pups - I’m -” Suga would never say this if he were in his right mind, but he isn’t, drunk on Asahi’s scent and the hormones raging in his blood and the electric feeling of ecstasy as he climbs to his orgasm, his heat making him dizzy. Confessions and dirty thoughts slip past his lips with no filter, born of his desperation and need to finish, to be knotted, the primal part of his instincts wanting to be bred. 

“I’ll give ‘em to you,” Asahi promises. It’s empty, but no one needs to know. “Anything you want from me.”

Suga doesn’t reply verbally, just gives a shrill cry as he spills between them. But Asahi isn’t done yet. 

He fucks Suga harder against the wall now, determined to shove his knot into him and breed him, pump him full of come just to watch his face as he does so, just to hear the moan that’ll tear itself from his throat. 

“I’m gonna knot you now, baby.” Asahi warns, and Suga nods frantically, asking for it, still hard even though he just came. 

“Do it, do it  _ please _ -” Suga begs, voices climbing in pitch and volume, pheromones and sex stinking up the shower, rising with the steam, and in the heat and madness of the moment, they bury their faces in each other’s necks and bite down hard on their mating glands, consequences and logic far behind them. 

Their DNA’s mix, blood spills from their skin and into their mouths, fire racing through their veins as Asahi spills deep inside Suga, his knot swelling as he rocks his hips shallowly before stilling. Suga gives out one last, tired moan at the warm, wet feeling inside of him and he comes for the (seemingly) millionth time. 

Asahi and Suga both take a moment to regain their breaths as they pant harshly, and Asahi slides them down to the floor, turning off the water, careful not to hurt Suga on his way down. 

They then realise what they’ve done as their gaze falls from each other’s eyes and down to the throbbing, brilliant red marks on the base of their necks. 

At first nobody says anything, far too shocked and scared, tension and worry as thick as a knife. 

Suga breaks the silence with a quiet, “Fuck.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second chapter, yay!! I hope you like this one, though nothing much happens in it. The real drama begins in the next ones!

They leave the bathroom without a word more. Suga puts on as much spray-on deodorant as he can, and they both try to cover their necks as much as possible. Before leaving, Suga’s eyes linger on the shower tiles, the scent and memories still there. Now that he’s taken the suppressants he had packed in his gym bag just in case, he can hardly believe that he is the same person that barely a few minutes ago was screaming for his best friend to fuck him against the wall. 

Nobody notices the change in their scent, be it the added perfume or how tired they all are. Suga plops down next to Daichi and smiles at him lightly, pretending to fall asleep almost immediately to avoid questions. He feels something strange surging at the base of his neck when he sees Noya lean his head on Asahi’s shoulder. He ignores it, and does try to fall asleep, his mind foggy as worry weighs heavy on his shoulder. 

…

 

When he gets home, he flops on the bed. He’s got two missed calls from Asahi, but he ignores them. He feels his heat re-surging, feels the edges of his vision get blurry again, and feels his body calling out again - but not for anyone anymore, but for Asahi, to feel his fingers in his hair again, his breath hot and damp against his neck, his knot stretching him - 

Suga takes the strongest pill he can find, and goes to sleep. 

 

…

 

Five days later, his heat subsides. It’s (conveniently) a holiday week, so he does nothing but lie in bed and read. He ignores his social media, puts his phone on silent and ‘forgets’ to charge it, leaves his computer in a secluded corner of his bedroom. He can’t bear to see his face, can’t look any of his teammates in the eye. He only leaves his room when he knows his parents aren’t there, knowing they’d be able to tell that he’s mated immediately. 

He hates thinking about that - being mated. You can mate only once in your life, and it’s irreversible - unless your mate dies, but that is such a painful experience most people don’t get re-mated. 

And it’s all the result of them being reckless and primitive, too clouded to actually  _ do  _ anything rational. Suga can’t call Asahi back, can’t hear his voice, knowing he’ll break into tears. 

They’ve fucked up their lives, and they can do nothing about it. 

It’s not like they  _ liked  _ anyone else, or at least Suga didn’t, but he didn’t want to mate with his best friend who he’s sure doesn’t like him back either. He can feel Asahi’s worry in him, his every emotion thrumming lowly in his bones, in his very being, like the low hum of an electrified fence, a subtle sort of warning. Suga also feels himself flood with worry momentarily, but then he remembers why his mate is worried and it subsides. 

Suga never imagined this. Suga’s always imagined finding his mate would be something out of a fairytale, or a corny movie: running into them in the school hall, or in college, slowly falling in love, picnic nights under the stars…

Instead, all he’s given is a rough fuck in a gym shower and a bite that’ll never fade. 

In between suppressants, Suga jacks off to - what he hopes - is a faceless feeling, but it always ends up going back to the same thing: long, dark locks of hair, deep brown eyes and a smile as warm and sweet as honey. Suga gets angry at himself when he climaxes, grunting and digging his nails into his palm. It’s a good stress-relief if you don’t mind your parents asking you about the scars on your hands every two minutes. 

Inevitably though, they must go back to school. 

“Suga!” Asahi calls to him when the silver-haired boy stands abruptly at the end of their first class, gathering his books in his arms and slinging his bag over his shoulder. He ignores it, and rushes out of the classroom. He knows people have noticed the shift in their scents, the tension in the air between them, but he ignores the prying eyes of strangers and the curious noses. 

When it’s time to practice, they barely look at each other. Neither of them are focused, and Suga misses the ball every time he’s supposed to set, whilst Asahi hits them all on his side of the net. Hinata approaches Daichi to ask, but the older just gives him a hard look that says everything Hinata needs to know. 

When practice is over, everyone’s overall morale is painfully low. Everyone is sulking, and even Tsukishima seems more irritable than usual. Suga stays behind to clean up, and when Daichi gets close to him to talk, Suga waves him away, whispering “I’ll tell you tomorrow, okay?” and Daichi nods and leaves. The lithe third-year has four volleyballs in his arms when he bumps into Asahi on his way into the storage room. They both gape at each other silently, as if they had forgotten how to breathe. Suga focuses on his own reflection in Asahi’s eyes, and not the pain and confusion he sees there. 

Suga is the first to react, breaking past Asahi with his elbow, moving into the dark room. He dumps the balls on the floor and then attempts to move past Asahi again before he’s caught by his wrist. 

“Suga, wait,” Asahi says, pleading. Suga’s gaze is hard on the floor, feelings and emotions swelling in his body, caught at his throat. His eyes tear up, and where Asahi’s fingers curl around his skin, it burns. 

“Let me go.” the first three words Suga utters to him since that day, and they’re raw and harsh, sandpaper against his throat. 

“Please.” Asahi begs, hand still wound around Suga’s wrist. 

“Let me  _ go! _ ” Suga exclaims, whirling around and ripping himself from Asahi’s grasp. His voice reverberates around the gym, but when it falls, you could hear a pin drop. Asahi also looks like he’s about to cry, his whole face an expression of hurt. 

“I can’t do this,” Suga starts, the tears already rolling down his face. “I don’t know what to do, I haven’t told my parents, and -”

“It isn’t easy for me either!” Asahi yells back. Suga is shocked, the taller boy’s calm demeanor never having cracked like this. It did, once, but it was a long time ago, or it seems to be. “I haven’t told my parents either, okay?” his voice softens, and he steps closer to Suga, who doesn’t step back. “I’m as lost as you are, and I blame myself more than anyone, but avoiding each other doesn’t solve anything.” Suga nods, and he continues, relieved at the sight of him only giving slight sobs. “I can feel you, you know? Your pain, your stress, your suffering, your worry. We could get through this better together - if not as lovers, as friends. It’ll be okay, I promise.”

Asahi reaches forwards tentatively, and cups Suga’s hands with his own. He’s not one to be rational in this situations, but he needs to be, because his mate is doing a lot worse than he is, and he needs support. Suga leans forward into Asahi’s touch, until he’s pressed to his chest, and he begins sobbing. Asahi wraps his arms around him and pulls them both to the floor. He rocks them back and forth on the gym floor, cries into Suga’s hair quietly as they let pent up emotions sizzle and waft into the air. 

 

…

 

Suga and Daichi sit at the coffee shop in the evening of the day after, october orange light making the clouds a rose gold colour, casting long and dark shadows on the floor. It’s warm inside, their hands wrapped around steaming mugs of coffee. 

“What happened between you and Asahi?” Daichi asks, cutting to the chase. 

“I...It’s a long story.” Suga replies, looking out the window almost absentmindedly, but his eyes are stuck on the road. He doesn’t want to look his best friend in the eyes when he says this, ashamed of his own behaviour. 

Daichi smiles warmly, and though Suga doesn’t see it, he feels it, the comfy feeling of kindness tickling his skin. “I’ve got time.”

Suga sighs deeply, as if exhaling all his feelings. His breath fogs up the window, and he draws his finger through it, hearing it squeak as he clears a tiny path down the glass. 

“It happened after we beat Aoba Johsai two weeks ago.” Suga begins. He feels himself get nervous, his voice trembles even after one sentence, but he keeps going. “I was so wrapped up in the euphoria of the moment, I forgot my heat was coming that day until the showers.”

Suga’s eyes dart from the window to Daichi, whose face reflects recognition. “That’s why you took so long in the showers.”

Suga laughs dryly, and turns back to the window. He takes a sip of coffee, black, and welcomes the bitterness in his mouth and the burn down his throat. “Kinda. You guys sent Asahi in, and well, one thing led to another and…” his face is burning red too, he’s sure, to the top of his ears. He’s embarrassed about the needy whines only they know, about the begging purrs that fell from his throat. He shakes his head, and braces himself for the worst part, the one he knows will sting him the most. “In the heat of the moment, we mated each other.” Suga gives another dry laugh, but it’s devoid of all joy. “It was an accident.”  _ But one I’ll have to live with for the rest of my life.   _

“Wait -” Daichi says, breaking the heavy silence that had fallen upon them. Suga turns to him, eyes wide with curiosity as to what he’ll say. “So you and Asahi are...mates, now?” Daichi joins his index fingers as a demonstration. He’s hoping Suga doesn’t hear the way he tries dancing around the word ‘mates’ but he does. 

“Yeah.” Suga answers. It’s tired, like all his energy has left him completely. 

“Why were you so angry at each other then?” Daichi asks again. “Well, not  _ angry per se,  _ but yes moody.”

Suga smiles with one side of his mouth, and returns his gaze to his mug, where he traces the rim with his finger. “We were frustrated...being mated to someone is a big deal, a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and we threw it away recklessly. I haven’t told my parents yet, but they’ll find out, and I don’t want to think about what’s going to happen to me when they do.”

Suga’s eyes sting, and they get glassy, but he takes a deep breath, determined not to cry here, not in front of Daichi.

They’re in a circular booth, and Daichi slides to Suga’s side, wrapping his arms around him and pulling him into a hug, the same way he did when they were younger. Suga feels safe here, protected. Daichi’s scent is familiar, and he revels in it, letting everything go for a few seconds as long as he’s in his best friend’s arms. 

“Thank you,” Suga whispers, and Daichi nods, understanding. 

Their coffees have gone cold, but they finish them anyway, needing an excuse to stay in the warm coffee shop instead of going back to the freezing cold outside. 

When they do, eventually, Suga feels out of breath as the wind hits him, whipping his hair across his face and biting at his fingers, making his cheeks flush red. 

“Do you want me to walk you home?” Daichi asks once he steps out. 

Suga looks at his best friend out of the corner of his eye, and he feels proud to be able to call this boy his closest friend. Not everyone in the world ever got the chance to have a friend like this, but he’s glad he does. 

“Yeah.” Suga nods, and they head back. As they walk in the fading autumn light, Suga feels like a child again, and he revels in it, knowing he won’t feel like that again in a very long time. 

Suga knows his time has run out to be a child. Everytime he feels blood pulse under the bite on the juncture of his neck, he’s reminded of the loss of his childhood. No, he’s not a kid any longer. 

Soon, he must learn to be an adult. 

 

…

 

The omega is restless, tossing and turning in bed as if the sheets itched and burned. He pulls them off and immediately, the cold hits him. He doesn’t mind. It’s too dark, too hot, too much in his bed, and he needs to clear his mind. He doesn’t dare to go running at this time of night, knowing he’d just be worrying his mother. Instead, he steps out onto the small balcony of his room. There’s glass sliding doors that lead to it, and he presses his hand against one of them. The glass is cool to the touch, and when he steps onto the balcony in only his socks, his feet freeze. He relishes in the feeling of the freezing wrought iron railing against his forearms, the shivers that rack his body and the wind making the hairs on the back of his neck stand. He bathes in silver moonlight and turns his eyes to the stars, clear on a crisp night like this. A faint veil of light covers them, one dotted with millions of other stars, and then he realises - he’s looking at the Milky Way. He’d take a picture, but he can’t bear to look away, an irrational fear of it disappearing taking over him. 

His hands grip onto the railing, and he looks out on Miyagi, watches it sleep. His house is small, up a hill, off the side of a barely transited road. From here, he can see the whole city, Karasuno  to the left and Daichi’s house a little farther down the road. An occasional car passes, a variation in the monotone humdrum of everyday life here, in a small city in Japan.

He feels another shiver run through his body. He knows Asahi will be able to feel this, the cold. He shouldn’t, but inwardly, Suga is pleased. He shakes his head and sighs, and when he does, he watches his breath swirl up like a faux curtain of smoke that rises and disappears into the starry night sky. Tomorrow he has school, and he should sleep, rest, but it is impossible. 

Every time Suga thinks about his situation, he feels like screaming and pulling his hair out. He wishes he could take a knife and slice off the bite, like one slices fruit. Even if he could, it wouldn’t work, Asahi’s DNA already embedded deep within his own. And he can’t claim somebody else, no - omegas can only claim and be claimed once. 

Sure, Asahi is a good person - he’s got a glass heart that he wears on his sleeve, one too big for his body. He will be a caring alpha, Suga is sure of it - a trusting, kind person, caring for his every need. But they cannot carry on as friends  _ and  _ mates. Those words don’t mix. He knows of cases where an alpha and an omega were forced to mate, their version of an arranged marriage, and then love wouldn’t blossom or bloom, the situation akin to trying to grow a rose garden on a block of concrete. The seed can’t get through the hard rock. 

Will they fall in love? Suga wonders. Will they marry? Will they have pups? Or are they destined to be nothing forever, to try and find solace in others but unable to attain it because of a mistake made as thoughtless teenagers? Suga can’t find it in himself to keep this train of thought, fearing the worst. He knows Akaashi and Bokuto have mated, but their mating was planned and thought out, not born of a sudden moment of ‘intimacy’ and raging hormones. Suga wants to punch something. He swings his fist and brings it down behind him on the wall between the door and the railing. He bites his lip before crying out - it feels like his hand is broken, the sharp pain running up his hand and arm. His knuckles bleed, if only slightly, and his lip bleeds where he bit it. 

Now, he thinks, now he will feel me. 

Suga feels bad a moment after. He shouldn’t be so spiteful towards Asahi, when they’d reconciled in theory. It’s not their fault they’re in this mess, and all he wants to do is help. Even so, Suga can’t help but feel happy at the idea of Asahi yelping in the middle of the night, waking to a painful fist. 

Now that his mind is somewhat cleared, he enters his room and shuts the glass door behind him. When he pulls the covers back on, he feels relief at the sensation of proper warmth. It envelops him, and he soon falls asleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> f e e d b a c k a n d c o m m e n t s a r e a p p r e c i a t e d


	3. Chapter 3

October is a month of change. It’s when leaves begin browning and falling off, dying to make a way for future life. It’s when the temperature drops little by little, and shorts and t-shirts are replaced by jeans and sweaters. September is melancholic, reminiscent of the lost summer tang. October is a happy month, the one that gets you excited for the cold to come. 

Suga’s October isn’t like that at all. 

He stands in the living room, waiting for his mom and dad to sit on the couch. He’s nervous, his palms sweat and there’s a knot in his stomach that won’t let him stand still. He taps with his foot, plays with his hands, looks at the ceiling, bites his lip. He needs something to do. Suga wants to make haste of this, needs to get through the hurting. 

When his parents are there, sitting beside each other, worry etched into their faces, Suga breathes and averts his eyes, unable to bear his parents looking at him. 

“Mom, Dad, I need to tell you something.” Unequivocally, his voice wavers. It’s a meek thing, more like a mewl than a seventeen year old’s voice. “I - I have mated with someone.” he hears his mother gasp and glances at his father’s apathetic face, searching out an emotion he cannot see. He wonders how the next bit of information will leave them. “By accident.”

That is the nail in the coffin, the last straw, the blow that makes the sanctuary crumble to ruins. 

Suga is as anxious as a man who awaits the executioner’s blade. 

His father’s face contorts into an unreadable expression of rage and fury, something dangerous and painful that pours into the cracks of Suga’s (now) fragile body. 

“Get out,” he seethes, pointing at the front door. “Get out!”

Suga searches for his mom with his eyes, but she isn’t even looking at them. He shakes his head, pleads to whoever will listen.  _ This can’t be happening.  _

“Dad, let me explain, we weren’t thinking, I didn’t mean to, I -” Suga tries, but his father isn’t listening. 

“I know you weren’t thinking! You thought more with what you have down here,” he points to Suga’s crotch, “than up here!” Suga cowers back. Suga’s fear and anxiety are exacerbated by his father’s low, rough, hatred-filled voice seeping into his bones, his body, his soul. “I had big plans for you, but you have been a complete disappointment.” 

Suga trembles, his knees knocking into each other, his heart beating as fast as it can, but it hurts once it’s broken. It’s like something inside him breaks, like the wood from the beam that holds his life together splits and splinters, the heart cracking as it breaks into two, making everything that he holds dear and precious to him plummet to the bottom of his being. 

“Leave,” he commands, all the care and love he has for Suga seemingly gone in one instant. “And don’t come back.”

Suga holds his tears, unwilling to cry in front of his father now. He can’t let this man see him at his weakest, at his lowest. He will not beg, not for him. 

Suga nods and steps away slowly. He takes him in, this beast of a person he calls his father. He heads for the table in the middle of the room, grabs his phone and shoves it into his pocket, runs for the door and grabs his scarf and jacket first before heading out the door, looking back once at his now broken family before slamming the door behind him, hard, so much so that the frame rattles. 

He breathes. It’s dusk, and now that the temperature has dropped as much as his spirit, his breath swirls up into the air and disappears. He pulls his jacket tight around him, wraps his scarf around himself, and walks a few metres down the road before he feels the one sob that pulls him taught, the next one that makes his shoulders go slack, and the third one that breaks him. He falls to his knees, chest heaving, echoes of his father’s words ricocheting off of the walls of his skull. 

He does not know what to do, doesn’t know who to call. He’s distraught, lost in a sea of pain and grief. Suga cries in the middle of the road, buries his face in his hands and wonders:  _ What will I do now? _

His rational side, it first thinks of Daichi. He knows he’d receive him with open arms for as long as he wished. But his instincts call for Asahi. It’s only been a few days since their conversation in the gym, almost three weeks since they mated. He naturally longs for his comfort, wishes for his arms around him. 

He ends up ignoring the logical side in his brain all together. He takes his phone out of his pocket and dials Asahi’s number. 

“Asahi?” he tries to stop crying, but his voice is raw and choked, and he sniffles every now and then. 

_ “Suga?” _ Asahi’s voice is laced with worry immediately.  _ “Are you okay?” _

Suga thinks about lying, but decides against it. “No - no I’m not, I’m really not. Can I stay over at your place? Please? I - I need help.” 

Asahi stutters a reply.  _ “Yeah, my parents are away on a business trip, I - I’ll -” _ the boy’s voice is tense, as if he were readying himself for a blow.

“Hey, hey, don’t get overly worked up,” Suga laughs breathily, wiping away the tears, smiling endearingly at the older boy’s antics. 

_ “I - okay.”  _ Asahi says.  _ “See you now then.” _

“See you now.” Suga whispers, and hangs up. He slips his phone back in his pocket, and sighs as he looks up at the starry sky, searching the pinpricks of light for answers. 

 

…

 

When he rings the doorbell, he hears footsteps and then the door opens to reveal a very flushed Asahi, with his hair in a ponytail, several strands of it sticking out, resembling a halo around his head. His cheeks are flushed red, and he’s panting. 

“...Hi?” Suga says, almost asking a question, raising an eyebrow. It’s not dismissive, but he’s wondering what on earth is going on in his friend’s house. 

“Hello.” Asahi replies, leaning against the door frame and smiling almost in a relieved way. 

“What’s going on?” Suga asks, pointing to the door, trying to look beyond Asahi’s body. It’s almost as if he were trying to hide something. 

“Nothing! Nothing’s going on.” Asahi says, trying to seem nonchalant, but it isn’t working. Asahi is a horrible liar. 

Suga then fakes a shiver, and rubs his hands together, breathing hard on them to try and warm them up. His hands are in fact, pretty warm since he kept them in his pockets all the way, but Asahi doesn’t need to know that. “It’s so cold outside, I’m freezing.” Suga looks up at Asahi with puppy eyes, knowing it’ll work. 

“Oh yes, well, uh…” Asahi trails off, and Suga gives him the cutest, most imploring look he can manage. The word  _ please  _ just hangs in the air, on the tip of Suga’s tongue. 

“Fine, come in, but don’t -” Asahi says, and Suga nods appreciatively, though he’s cut off once Suga walks in the front door. The house is a mess. There’s a smashed jar on the floor, the cushions on the sofa are strewn on the floor along with the blankets, the table has a spilled jug of water on it that’s currently dripping onto the floor, wetting the rug, and there’s a pigeon flying in circles above their heads. 

Suga slowly turns back to Asahi, smiling in a dangerous manner, and asks in a deceptively quiet way: “What happened?”

“I - uh -” Asahi’s about to start sweating, and he looks like a deer caught in headlights. “So a pigeon flew in but I didn’t notice so I closed the window, and when I went back to my room I saw it had taken tomorrow’s homework in its beak, so I chased it around the living room, and I had to jump on the couch, and I accidentally threw over the jug, and -”

Suga places a hand on his shoulder. Immediately, Asahi stops talking, and he looks at Suga’s hand then back at Suga, completely perplexed. It’s as if Suga’s touch were a switch that turns Asahi to a pliable mess. “Calm down. I’ll help you clean up.”

Asahi opens his mouth to reply, but instead he nods and mumbles, “I’ll go get the mop.”

Suga smiles endearingly, feeling happiness invade him little by little.

 

…

 

When they finish cleaning up (and the pigeon is long gone), it’s past nine o’clock. Suga and Asahi sit on the couch in silence, enjoying the sound of each other’s breathing. 

Suga looks at Asahi and explodes into a crazy fit of giggles, laughter bubbling up his throat like gas in champagne, golden and exploding when it reaches the top. 

“Thanks, honestly.” Asahi tells the giggling omega, and then starts giggling too. 

“You’re welcome.” Suga replies, and swears he can feel Asahi almost staring at him when he smiles. Suga looks away. 

“Oh, I forgot - I need to get you your pajamas!” Asahi realises, and rushes to, what Suga supposes, is his bedroom. 

Suga’s noticed how he hasn’t asked why he’s here yet, but he won’t push it, not wanting to talk about the subject. It’s too fresh in his mind, and it’d be like opening new wounds. 

Asahi returns with a shirt and some yoga pants, folded neatly and yet in a state of disarray, the shirt and trousers both wrinkled and crumpled somewhat. It’s one of the most quintessentially ‘Asahi’ things Suga has ever seen, and the endearment he feels makes his heart grow in his chest. 

He mumbles a quiet, “Thank you,” and heads to the bathroom. It’s almost the same as Suga remembers it, the dark grey tiles and the pristine white shower. It’s been renovated, because the sink wasn’t quite as new and the tiles were cracked when Suga first came, but it still makes Suga feel a certain melancholy at the memories swirling in his head. 

He closes the door and locks it, quickly putting on the clothes. As soon as he does, it’s an assault on his nose, an attack on his instincts. The shirt and trousers are drenched in Asahi’s scent, the warm, heavy, summery smell that drives Suga mad. He inadvertently puts his nose in the fabric and takes in the scent for a moment. He instantly feels a sensation of comfort, an invisible hand wiping his tears. Suga then turns to look at himself in the mirror, and he’s shocked. He looks like he hasn’t slept in days, which he hasn’t, dark bags collecting under his eyes. He’s decidedly thinner, but it confuses him because he’s been feeling bloated for the past few days, vomiting almost every morning this last week. It’s stress, Suga’s sure of it. 

The shirt is far too big on him, hanging off of his body like a sack. The neckline pools below his collarbones, leaving them exposed. The short sleeves almost reach his elbows, and the shirt itself almost reaches his knees. The trousers are baggy to say the least, still collecting at his ankles no matter how high up he pulls them. He decides to go for rolling the bottom, and though he rolls them quite a bit, he no longer looks like he’s wearing medieval  _ Crakow _ s.

He washes his face and hands, then rubs at his scent glands. Lately they’ve become itchy, but that’s normal too, because he’s stressed. 

When he steps out of the bathroom, Asahi isn’t in the living room. Suga heads for the kitchen, and he sees the lights are on. There, whilst humming along to the latest song on the radio, Asahi is cooking something, and it smells amazing. 

“That smells so good.” Suga says, startling the older boy, unwittingly making him jump. 

“Oh! You’re here.” Asahi says, and then blushes, looking down at the pot and adding in vegetables in a more frantic manner. 

“Yeah.” Suga leans in closer, and looks over into the pot of noodles. “What are you making?”

“Really spicy noodles,” Asahi replies with a meek smile. “Your favourite.”

Suga’s touched, and without thinking about it, hugs Asahi, smiling into his chest. The older boy is taken by surprise, but he laughs breathily and pats Suga’s head affectionately. It’s the closest they’ve been since ‘the gym’ incident, and they relish it. 

They suppose their friendship has taken a different turn. 

When dinner is ready, they Suga sits down and takes in the scent of the hot noodle soup, closing his eyes and feeling the warmth flood him, his mouth watering at the spicy smell. 

“This smells so good.” Asahi comments. 

“I’m sure it’ll taste even better,” Suga grins, taking his chopsticks in hand. 

It’s perfect, the right amount of spice, meat and vegetables, not too soupy and not too hot. It makes Suga’s tongue tingle, and he gulps down the first mouthful without any chewing. 

Asahi all but gapes at him, mouth wide. “How did you…” he points at the bowl in front of Suga. The silver haired omega tilts his head to the side and shrugs his shoulders. 

Suga watches with careful eyes as the alpha takes his first bite, and obviously, the proportions Suga imagines as perfect do not coincide with Asahi’s. The taller male reaches for his glass of water frantically, gulping half of it down in an almost comical manner as he coughs inwardly, his chest shaking and his body jolting. He winces, eyes closed as if he were in pain. 

“Are you okay?” Suga asks, leaning over the table, worried. 

Asahi barely opens his eyes and wheezes,  _ “Spicy...” _

The smaller boy stares at him for a good four seconds before bursting into laughter. Asahi looks panicked, swamped with fear and confusion as Suga  _ howls,  _ eyes squeezing shut as tears of happiness roll down his cheeks, his hands clutching his stomach. 

“I’m - I’m sorry -” Suga apologises, only giggling slightly. Asahi nods, smiling, but not at the same thing. He smiles in a way that makes Suga blush and only give out little nervous laughs. 

“It’s fine.” 

They finish dinner, and Suga yawns, stretching his arms over his head. 

“Are you tired?” Asahi asks, popping his head out the kitchen window as he wipes his hands on a kitchen towel. 

“A little.” Suga replies, eyelids drooping with sleep. 

“Let me take you to bed.” Asahi says, stepping in front of Suga, making the omega feel funny when he said that. There is no underlying suggestive tone to it, but it still makes Suga feel dizzy. He doesn’t reply, and follows Asahi into the dark corridor. They enter a darker room, and Asahi switches on the light. Suga is immediately pulled back into his childhood of playing on this bed, the posters of their idols on the wall, the pictures of family and friends on the dresser and the bookshelf on one of the walls, with books and sports magazines strewn haphazardly on it, as well as some textbooks.  

The bedspread hasn’t changed either - light blue, with matching pillows.

Suga gasps as he’s lead in, and he immediately picks up the picture on the dresser of their first victory in Karasuno. They look so happy, drenched in sweat with the medal hanging round their necks, their faces rounder and their eyes filled with hope, three best friends against the world. Asahi’s hair was shorter, Daichi was less confident and Suga was a lot more innocent, but there’s a childish glow in their faces that he can’t quite remember having. 

“You still have it,” Suga comments under his breath, running his thumb over the frame with affection in his eyes. “I didn’t think you would.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Asahi answers, drawing the curtains. “I love that picture.”

Suga doesn’t reply, just puts the picture back. 

“Wait, so where am I going to sleep again?” Suga asks tentatively, eyebrows furrowed. 

“Here.” Asahi replies nonchalantly. 

“And where are you going to sleep?” Suga knows the house doesn’t have a guest bedroom, just Asahi’s and the master one, so…

“In the living room.” he replies, going over to the cupboard on one side of the room and taking out two blankets and a pillow. 

“You can’t!” Suga exlcaims. “This is your bedroom.”

“I know it is,” Asahi says, looking back at Suga. “But I don’t mind you having it.”

“But -” Suga tries saying, cut off by the sudden bear hug he’s enveloped in. 

“Shhh. Rest, you’ll need it.” Asahi mumbles into the top of Suga’s head. The omega nods. “Good night.” 

“Good night.” Suga replies, watching Asahi as he pulls away and leaves the room. 

When he gets into bed, the sheets smell of Asahi, as well as his clothes, the whole room is saturated with his scent. Suga rolls around in the sheets, feeling almost immediate comfort at being surrounded by his mate’s scent. His sleep is peaceful for the first time in forever. 

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> F e e d b a c k a n d c o m m e n t s a r e a p p r e c i a t e d.


	4. Chapter 4

“Just take it.” 

“No.”

_ “Suga.” _

“Your Alpha voice doesn’t work on me, Asahi.”

“Yes it does.”

“No, it doesn’t.”

“You vomited this morning, Suga.”

“So?”

“Just take it. If the result is negative, I’ll stop pushing.”

“And you’ll buy me cake.”

“And I’ll buy you cake.”

Suga takes the little stick into the bathroom begrudgingly, grunting and huffing as he closes the bathroom door shut. 

 

…

  
  


The blue cross shines as bright as the Sun at him, blinding him and leaving him dumbfounded. It seems to stare back at him, the large omen for his dark future. He sits on the toilet seat, and for the longest time, doesn’t utter a word. He’s speechless, all his thoughts and memories retreating into the back of his mind, replaced by a large, dark, ‘ _ What?’ _

For a brief moment, he thinks it could be a mistake, that he’s reading it wrong - but the test was clear: A cross if positive, a horizontal line if negative. 

He tries to reel logic back in for a few seconds, keeping his breathing even. He needs to give off the impression that he’s okay, that nothing’s wrong. 

First of all, he tries listing the factors that contributed to this - situation: 

 

  * __I was in heat, augmenting my fertility rate by over 20%.__


  * _I was not on the pill and Asahi did not wear a condom._



 

_ Why didn’t we think about that though? I just -  _

Next, about the consequences and everything that follows: 

 

  * __I’m still in the eight week timeline, since I’m only four weeks in…__



 

  1. _I need to tell my parents, and that isn’t going to turn out well._



_ They won’t stop loving me, right?  _

Nobody answers for nobody can hear, but the echoing of his question ricochets in his brain, and the silence that follows is more than enough. He can’t even reassure himself that he’ll be okay. Suga’s never been one for empty promises anyway. 

He takes a few deep breaths and then steps out of the bathroom. Asahi is waiting for him in the living room, sitting on the couch, his leg bouncing up and down, his lower lip caught under his teeth. He’s nervous, and Suga can tell. His hands bunch up his trousers, and his hair is falling out of the messy bun it’s in, tumbling down his shoulders. 

He sits beside Asahi, gripping the pregnancy test in his hands so hard the knuckles turn white. He turns to his mate, and without looking him in the eye, he (almost reluctantly) hands over the test. Asahi turns it over in his big hands, and when he reads the result, looks up at Suga. The omega offers a small, nervous giggle. “Do I still get cake…?”

His and Asahi’s eyes lock, and Suga can see his own fear and panic mirrored in the taller boy’s eyes, blown wide in alarm, but there’s an underlying tone of almost happiness that Suga can’t ignore. 

“Now what?” Suga asks, careful not to break the silence to briskly, his voice barely a whisper. 

“Now we take responsibility for our actions. We tell my parents, and we’re taking you to the hospital.” Asahi says firmly, voice barely wavering. For all his shyness and timidity, his alpha instincts manage to shine through, showing the strength within him. He is strong, but he always keeps it hidden, his true strength corded within the fibres of his muscles, set deep in his bones. His heart is made of a mix of gold and glass, always bigger than his body. 

“Have you told your parents that we…?” Suga says, trailing off, looking away. They always dance around the subject when it comes off, avoiding the topic completely this past week Suga’s been at Asahi’s house. 

“Yes, and they aren’t mad. It was unexpected, but not disappointing. Plus it’s you, and you know they like you.”

Asahi’s gentle, calm voice soothes the unease growing like a wildfire in Suga’s chest. 

“I - okay. When are they coming back?” Suga asks. 

“Tomorrow. They know you’ve been staying though.” Asahi replies. He can see the distant look in Suga’s eyes, and he cups Suga’s hand in his own. “Look at me.” he murmurs softly. Suga looks up and sees the happiness from earlier shine brighter in Asahi’s eyes. “We’ll be fine. I’ll go make the appointment now.”

And Suga nods, wanting to believe him. 

  
  


…

  
  


Asahi’s parents take it well. They chastise them, but it’s lighthearted, and Hitomi (Asahi’s mother) hugs them both after. 

“Come,” she says in a voice as sweet and soft as her son’s. “Let’s get you both to the hospital.”

Asahi’s father tells jokes in the car, and tells Suga some parts of Asahi’s childhood he didn’t know, making him crack up. Asahi just blushes furiously and looks out the window, mock hitting Suga softly in the arm, hiding his face in his hands. 

“I hate you.”

“Liar.”

When they get there, the scent of hospital hits Suga’s nostrils, and he feels panic rising in him again, his blood seemingly rushing faster. The smell of antiseptic and cleanliness, of sterile rooms and bleach all make Suga’s mind haze up. The far too bright lights of the reception bounce off the gleaming white floors and onto the white walls. Suga feels faint.

“Are you okay?” Asahi murmurs to him as his mother talks to the receptionist. 

“Yeah,” Suga lies, “just nervous ‘s all.”

“It’ll be okay, I promise.” Asahi reaches shyly for his hand, and Suga takes it. 

For a moment, he gets distracted as they sit in the waiting room, allowing himself sometime to relax and his mind some time to wonder. 

Their friendship was very typical - they were best friends, but they always came in second to each other - Daichi came before Asahi, and Noya came before Suga. Always linked by a semi-tragic past regarding volleyball, their friendship grew stronger slowly over the years, like a flower that grows on its own, only watered by rain. 

After the mating, it grew stronger, for better or for worse - after all, who mates with their best friend? They’re still friends now, Suga thinks. They aren’t lovers, or boyfriends. Maybe it’s a convenience friendship now, or Asahi’s too shy and kind to say no, to leave Suga alone at a time like this. At the bottom of his heart, Suga is sure that’s not true, but the mind loves playing tricks. 

“Koushi Sugawara-san?” The woman calls from one of the rooms. Suga’s train of thought is cut off abruptly as his head snaps to see the woman standing outside the door. He stands, and Asahi follows. His parents wave at them, and Suga smiles sheepishly before stepping into the room. 

It also has the same stench of over cleanliness, but Suga tries his best not to get dizzy. The ultrasound machine stands in one corner, tall, as if looming over them, warning them. 

“So...who’s Sugawara-san?” the nurse asks, a tall woman with kind eyes and a warm smile. Her hazel eyes dart between the two as she pushes her dark hair behind her ear. Meekly, Suga’s hand raises. 

“I am, but ‘Suga’ is just fine.” 

The nurse grins, something warm and reassuring. She brushes her hand on Suga’s arm, an act of kindness and empathy. Suga has no doubt that she knows he’s seventeen, and that she can sense his tension, evident in the bags under his eyes. 

“Come, let’s see what’s going on in there.” she says, and leads Suga to lie on a hospital bed. She lifts Suga’s shirt, but not without sending him a hesitant look, and Suga responding with a tiny nod. 

She gets out the gel, and warns - “It might be cold.” - before spreading it on Suga’s stomach. He’s got the tiniest hint of abs, small ridges along his stomach. He gasps when he feels the very cold gel on his skin. He can see Asahi staring, mesmerised. 

The nurse then turns to Asahi. “I take it you’re the father?”

“I - uh - yes.” Asahi stutters. It’s the first time anyone’s referred to him as the father of the baby. 

She then looks back to the ultrasound machine, and takes up the transducer probe. She passes it over Suga’s stomach slowly, and with the other hand types some controls into the machine. 

The image pops up. It’s a mess of grey lines, but there’s a tiny dot in the middle. 

“That’s your gestational sac,” the nurse says. “It’s your to-be baby, sort of.”

“Oh.” 

Suga watches, leans in a bit closer. He squints his eyes at the small dot, and doesn’t know how to feel. It’s a mix of emotions and sensations inside him. There’s a tiny, living being inside him, half him half Asahi, and the image on the ultrasound does nothing to quench the queasy, uneasy feeling of unrest in his stomach. 

Once they’re done with that, the nurse hands Suga an envelope. “Would you like to keep the scan?” 

Suga’s hands fidget, and the envelope paper seems to itch at Suga’s fingers, but he nods anyway. 

“Okay, so: since you’re still in the eight week term, you can still choose to have an abortion. It’s a safe procedure, and you just need to call the centre at the top of this pamphlet.” She gives Suga the paper, that also contains basic information on the procedure. He takes it with trembling hands. Suga and Asahi look at each other with unease in their eyes, then back down at the pamphlet. “You have two weeks to make your decision, so don’t stress.”

Suga bites his lip. He mutters a few words of gratitude and they leave the room.

“How’d it go?” Asahi’s mom asks, standing as soon as she sees them walk out the door. 

“Okay,” Suga says, looking at the floor. “It was okay.”

  
  


…

  
  


“We don’t have to tell anyone.” Asahi says, leaning against the door frame. 

Suga doesn’t reply. He’s shrugging on his coat. Asahi’s clothes are folded neatly on the newly made bed, and he’s shoving his phone into his pocket. 

“Where are you going?” Asahi asks, frowning. 

“To my house.” Suga replies. 

“Why?” the alpha is confused. 

“Your parents are back, and I can’t stay forever.” Suga says, tying his shoelaces. “Plus, my uniform feels better on me.” For the last week, he’s been using one of Asahi’s old ones. He hasn’t been at volleyball practice, reluctantly asking Asahi to tell the team he’s been feeling too sick to play. 

“You know you’re welcome, and my parents don’t mind having you around!” Asahi protests. He tugs on Suga’s arm, and pulls them closer. “You haven’t told me why you came, that night.” 

Suga looks away, avoiding his gaze. “I haven’t.” he mumbles. “But do I have to?”

Asahi has let go, but he won’t look away. He’s almost forced to act like such a brawny alpha around Suga, to try and offer him security, comfort, something to hold onto. He wishes Suga was the one covering and protecting him from the cold outside, from the comments of others and the societal expectations. But he has no choice. Suga is in a worse state, surely because of whatever happened back at his house. 

“No.” Asahi says, his voice like thin ice, about to break. “But it would help.”

Suga steps back and tries getting past Asahi. “I need to show my parents today’s ultrasound.” he whispers, as if it was an explanation. 

“Answer me one thing,” Asahi says. Suga turns back to him, his foot already out of the room door. 

“Yes?” Suga’s voice is also cracking, but not from crying. It cracks in a different way. 

“Do you really want to go back?” Asahi asks. He turns around to look at Suga, and the omega doesn’t reply, just runs to Asahi and flings himself in his room, catching the alpha by surprise. They hug, and it’s not romantic, or special. It’s an answer, it’s comfort, and as Asahi sits them both on the bed, he sighs. 

“I know I seem weak and helpless,” Suga starts, pulling away. He can’t look Asahi in the eye. It takes too much effort to keep his gaze straight. “what with all the hugging and the crying. But I’m not, I promise.” 

_ I know,  _ Asahi thinks, but he keeps his lips pressed in a straight line. 

“I - I told my parents, about the ‘us-being-mated’ thing. I didn’t even tell them who it was. I don’t know if it would’ve helped though.” Suga feels something sharp in his chest, like something poking at his heart. The memory hurts, it stings like a cut, a stab. “My mom said nothing, and my dad, well...he pretty much kicked me out.” Suga doesn’t want to tear up, so he blinks his eyes and turns to look at Asahi, properly now. “They have to let me back in, right?”

Asahi holds his hands. “I - I’m not sure, Suga. I just want you to be happy. And your father doesn’t sound like he’s in his right mind for now.” 

Suga knows he’s right, he knows that going back would be like suicide. And yet -

“I don’t want to feel like a parasite, Asahi. I don’t want to take advantage of you.” 

Asahi smiles fondly. “You’re not, I promise you.”

Suga doesn’t say anything, but nods instead. Asahi pulls Suga into another hug, finding that their touch is comforting to each other, that every inch of Suga’s skin that comes in contact with his own is like a warm blanket, wrapping them both in a peaceful feeling of tranquility. The hugging, their hand holding, even their thighs touching when they sit together - it’s all enough to set them at ease, if only momentarily. Touch is so important to mates biologically, it’s almost a necessity. 

They say nothing, and instead lean into each other until their foreheads touch, breathing. 

Suga was right earlier - theirs isn’t a normal sort of friendship, but it never will be, not from here onwards. 


End file.
